Birth of a Rose
by FrostedIce
Summary: Ron and Hermione are going through something one might never get over: the death of an unborn child. How will they overcome their sadness? Will they ever be able to stop grieving?
1. Chapter 1

Ronald Weasley stood in the doorway of his and Hermione's soon-to-be-newborn's room. Across the room, staring out the window, was his wife and mother of his child, Hermione. Although her back was to him, Ron could tell she was beaming. Ever since they had found out about her pregnancy, the both of them had been nothing short of happy. Both were always smiling, joy in every movement.. Ron watched as Hermione turned slightly to reveal her bump. Both of her hands lay gently on it as she rubbed circles over it and whispered incoherent words. Ron began walking slowly up to her and when he came to rest beside her, she looked up at him and smiled. "Can you believe it?" she said in awe as tears brimmed her eyes. The red-head smiled while snaking his arms around her in a tight yet gentle embrace. His arms came to rest above hers and he clasped them gently as he began to rub the bump. Hermione shifted so they could look out of the window.  
"Yes," Ron answered honestly as his lips softly kissed her cheek. Hermione gave a light chuckle as her head fell back in the crook of Ron's neck.

"Do you think we should've told the doctor to tell us the sex?" she asked curiously.

"I thought you wanted it to be a surprise?" He replied questioningly.  
"I do. But the suspense kills me," she joked. Ron laughed while nuzzling his head in Hermione's thick curls and inhaled the sweet scent of her strawberry shampoo. He was brought out of his daze when he felt a light 'bump' on his hand. Abruptly, he jerked his hand back looking down at Hermione.

"What the bloody hell was that?" he exclaimed. However, he did not get a reply; Hermione grabbed his hand and once more placed it on her stomach. Tears fell down her cheeks as she looked up at Ron. "I-is something wrong?" Ron asked.

March 2005  
Ron stood in the same place he stood only two weeks before. Only this time there was no happiness radiating from either of them. At the thought of his wife, Ron looked over to where she was sitting. She was sitting in the white rocking chair with her hands and head being supported by the railing of the crib as she looked at the wall before her. Her face was pale and her cheeks were red from crying. Her hair seemed to stick out more profusely now and her eyes held no warmth the way they did before. Ron watched with anguish as her gaze moved from the wall to inside the crib. There, she gently picked up a yellow blanket. Her hands worked circles in it as she looked at it with a heartbroken expression. Tears began sliding down her cheeks rapidly but no sob escaped her lips. Ron was torn; he could either comfort his wife, or he could let her be. How would she react to him? Would she push him away? Deciding to take a risk, Ron walked slowly over to the figure of his wife and hesitantly placed his hand on her shoulder. Sensing him, Hermione looked up at him and bit her lip as she cried harder. He couldn't take it. He had to do something. He couldn't just stand there and watch her slowly break in front of him. "Hermione," Ron breathed as he bent down to wrap his arms around her. At first, she sat there, but she slowly allowed her arms to encircle Ron as well. Her body shook as she allowed herself to sob harder than she ever had.

Be strong for Hermione, Ron. Ron told himself as he felt his heart slice in two. Despite himself, Ron broke out into a sob as tears began threatening to pour from his eyes. Why? Why them? Of all of the people in the wizarding world, it had to be him and Hermione? Tightening his arms around Hermione, Ron nuzzled his head against her neck and softly kissed it. "It's going to be alright," he lied. Hermione stilled as she pulled away to look at him. Her eyes were ablaze with anger as she glared at him.

"How can you say that?" she spat.

"I was only try-"

"Trying to what? Comfort me?" she yelled as she stood up. Ron stood also and watched her warily.

"I'm so-"

"NO! Don't you dare say you're sorry! Do you have any idea how many people have told that to me for the past three days? Do you? IT'S NOT THEIR FAULT! It's mine!" Hermione backed up against the wall and began crying harder. Ron walked toward her but she put her hands out. "No! Just leave me alone!"

"Hermione-"

"Do you know what it's like to carry something inside you for five months- something living, moving-then-" her voice broke as she found herself unable to continue. Her voice level lowered, "I was responsible for a living life, our baby's life, Ron. But, I couldn't carry it." Anger flared in Ron. It wasn't only her child, it was his! Did she not think that it killed him too? That every time he thought of the baby he and Hermione lost it felt as if a new wound was being cut in his heart? But he wouldn't snap at her, he knew better not to. The muggle doctor said to give her space yet be there for her at the same time. How was he suppose to do that? Ron thought. The red-head walked toward the brunette but before Ron could embrace her, Hermione stepped away. "Please, Ron, let me be alone. Please," she pleaded quietly while avoiding his eyes. Soundlessly, Ron nodded and walked out of the room. As he shut the door, he felt another piece of his heart break as he heard the soft sobs of his wife mourning the loss of their child._**  
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	2. Chapter 2

**AN) Enjoy! Please remember to review :)**

* * *

June 2005  
A loud 'thump' sounded through the small house as a door was slammed. Groaning in frustration, Ronald Weasley balled his fists and punched the wall nearest to him. How could she say he didn't care? How? For the past two months he had nothing but cater to her every need, always making sure she was okay. But apparently none of that mattered to her. All she could do was sit up in her, yes her, room and cry. Crying Ron had nothing wrong with, no, he would take her crying any day in comparison to being told he had 'no emotions' or 'no sympathy'. It was a horrid thing, to be told you didn't care for your wife and her feelings, and even worse, to be told you didn't care about your dead child. Tears weld in his blue eyes at the thought.

He loved the baby. He really did. If it was his decision he would gladly die in place for the baby's life; No question. But, how could he show that to Hermione? She loved the baby, Merlin he knew she did. If there was anything in the world she loved with everything in her power it was that baby. Ron felt the same, he just didn't show it. No, he didn't know how to show it. It was like wanting to pay attention in his old History of Magic class but not knowing how to, or what to do. He tried to show he cared by caring for Hermione, but she wouldn't have any of it. His brother, George, suggested cleaning the baby's nursery. He said it might remind Hermione too much of the baby. Problem was, when Ron tried to clean the nursery, he ended up thrown out of the room and forbidden to never go in there. He knew Hermione loved the baby, but he thought that was going too far.

It seemed like she couldn't let go. Or perhaps, didn't want to. It seemed like she wanted to hold on to the five months the baby spent in her womb. And it seemed like Ron was ready to let that go, to let it be in the past. Repairing the wall he punched with a flick of his wand, Ron turned and began walking to where the door was slammed; the nursery door. When he got there, he found it cracked. Walking in hesitantly, Ron noticed a small figure sitting in a white rocking chair beside the window. Sighing, the redhead stepped toward his wife.

"Hermione," he began gently, "I'm sorry." She turned her head to look at him with broken brown eyes. It tore his heart in two to see those eyes that once radiated warmth and love to now hold so much hurt and distress in them.

"I am too," she said, her voice cracking. "I've been so horrid to you these past few months. It's just, Ron that was our baby, our blood, I was responsible for this small little life and I let it down!" New tears found themselves onto her cheeks, she looked away as if embarrassed.

Ron bent down to where his face was only inches from her own. Gently cupping her face with his hands, his blue eyes met her brown ones with determination in them. "No, don't you dare say that, Hermione." What else could he say? What could he do? He felt worthless; he couldn't even give her advice, not that he had the faintest idea how too.

Her eyes flashed in anger and she swatted his hands away. "Don't you dare tell me what to say, Ronald! You have no idea what this feels like!"

"I don't?! Hermione, that was my child too! You're not the only one effecting by this! NO, you're the only one SULKING about it!"

"Sulking? SULKING? WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME DO YOU WANT ME TO DO, RON? HAVE A HEN'S NIGHT WITH GINNY AND LUNA?" By the time Hermione yelled all this, she had already pushed Ron out of the door. "Just leave, please." And with that, she slammed the door in his face. Ron did the only thing that he could think to do at that moment, he Apparated to his brother-in-law and sister's flat.

"I just...I don't understand what she wants me to do," Ron said quietly while setting down his tea and looking at his best mate, Harry Potter. Harry surveyed Ron with pity and sadness in his eyes. Not only did it kill Ron to have someone look at him with pity in their eyes, what made it worse was having your best mate look at you with pity in their eyes. "Don't look at me like that," Ron said irritatingly.

A small smile tugged at Harry's lips. "Sorry, mate." His face took a more serious expression. "Look, have you tried just giving Hermione time alone?"

Ron looked at his friend incredulously. "Time alone? The bloody woman is always alone, Harry! She even sleeps in her own bed, alone!"

"Ron, I wouldn't refer to my wife as 'woman' if I were you." Ginny appeared from the kitchen, giving Ron a scathing look. "Empathize with her, Ron."

"How am I suppose to do that?" His voice was near a yell but Ron refrained from yelling because he knew how Harry would react to it.

Ginny sighed while sitting down beside Harry. He stretched and put his arm protectively around her shoulders. Ron felt a pang of jealousy, he and Hermione use to be like that, when she didn't swat his hand away and giggle. "Ron, just put yourself in her position," Ginny replied simply.

"Why can't she put herself in my position?"

"Ron, were you pregnant five months?" Ginny said dangerously, eyes narrowing.

"No."

"Did you throw up every morning for five months?"

"No."

"Then why in the bloody hell would she have to empathize with you?"

Ron knew his face was red, not from embarrassment, but from anger. "Oh, let me think, because I was the baby's father! Not only did she lose a child, but I did too Ginny! I DID TOO!"

"I know that Ron, but-"

"But what, Ginny? You women act like it was only her that lost the baby! Sure, she carried it but I helped create it! It was mine too! And what am I suppose to do? Hermione complains that I have absolutely no feelings when it comes to the baby but when I try to take care of her she pushes me away! I don't understand! It's like I'm suppose to feel one way, but when I do I get scolded for it!"

The room fell quiet and both Ginny and Harry looked at Ron, speechless; He was crying. It felt like his heart broke, again, at every word he said. Ron sighed and stood up. "I'm just going to go." He said before walking to the door. Just before he grasped the door knob, a strong hand grasped his arm.

"Ron, let's talk, eh?" Ron didn't turn. He merely nodded and allowed Harry to Apparate.

The Three Broomsticks hadn't changed much from when Harry and Ron went to Hogwarts. It still had a cozy yet edgy feeling and the butterbeer tasted just as good as ever. Ron looked over to Harry as his friend watched him. If he was planning on getting Ron drunk then he would have another thing coming, Ron wasn't allowed any more then five butterbeers ever since he and Hermione began coming to The Three Broomsticks as a couple. "What are you playing at?" He asked suspiciously.

Harry chuckled softly. "Nothing, mate."

A long silence ensued and Ron was about to get up and leave only to have Harry gently pull him back down. "Don't go. Tell me, how is Hermione doing?"

Ron sighed. "She isn't any better and she isn't worse. She's the same, really."

Harry seemed to contemplate this while Ron downed his fourth bottle of butterbeer. "How're you, Ron?"

How was he? It confused Ron just thinking about it. Was he okay? Was he still hurt? Did he just hide his feelings? It was too hard to tell. "I-I don't know," he said honestly.

"Look, I know it's hard having everything thrown and blamed on you. But just take it, mate. Hermione will come around, I promise. Just give her time. Be patient and just be there for her."

"It's hard to when she wont let you," Ron muttered.  
Harry sighed. "This is hard for me because I have no idea what to say, but I'm trying. That's what you do; try."

"You make it sound so easy. Well, I've got news for you Harry, it's not."

"I know it isn't. Would you rather me be a good friend and try to reason with you or would you rather me allow you to fall into depression?"

"Bloody hell, Harry, you sound like one of those Muggle doctors."

A chuckle escaped Harry's lips as he stood up and laid some money on the table. "Thanks. Anyway, I have to get back to Ginny. Do me a favor and don't stay out late." Before Ron could reply, Harry was already out of the door. It seemed like at that moment something clicked.

Muggle doctor.

Jumping up from the table, Ron ran out of the door and Apparated home, ready to face Hermione. 


	3. Chapter 3

Ron peaked cautiously around the door to the nursery. It didn't take long for him to return home from his day with Harry and Ginny, so he didn't give much thought to the whole concept of visiting a Muggle doctor, unfortunately. His eyebrows furrowed when he saw that Hermione wasn't in the nursery. It was strange - she was usually there. "Hermione?" He called out. The only answer he got back was a _sniff _that sounded like it was coming from their master bedroom.

Closing the door to the nursery, Ron walked across the hall to the bedroom door. Turning the knob cautiously, Ron walked in slowly. She was curled up on their bed, hidden in the sheets so that only her brown hair was visible. "Hermione?" Ron inquired gently as he walked to where she was lying. He sat down beside her on the bed and laid a hand on her. "I'm sorry," was all he could say. When the words left his mouth, Hermione turned her head to face him.

She looked miserable. Dark circles surrounded her eyes (which were red from her crying) and her cheeks were as red as roses. "Why are you sorry?" she croaked. "_I'm _sorry. I shouldn't have gone off on you like that. It was stupid and senseless of me." As she spoke more tears rolled down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry Ron. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me and now I'm-" she was interrupted as Ron covered her lips with his. It was a gentle, soft kiss. When he pulled away, both of their faces wore shocked expressions.

Ron's cheeks reddened. "I'm sorry." How dense could he be? Here his wife was crying and in need of comfort and he _kisses _her? He looked at her nervously to see her reaction. Surprisingly, she didn't look angry. An emotion crossed her face that Ron couldn't identify.

Hermione moved over and patted the space beside her. "Sit here," she said gently. Obeying, Ron moved towards her, careful to take off his shoes before he did so. Merlin only knew how Hermione would react to wearing shoes in the bed. Now that he was besides her, Ron had no idea what to do. Should he put his arm around her? Run for the hills? Hermione seemed to notice his confusion. "I just want to talk." It was said gently and lightly but Ron could tell their was much more to her words.

Feeling the need to protect her, Ron put his arm around Hermione's shoulders and pulled her closely to him. She didn't resist

Ron sighed. "Let's talk."

It seemed as if they had talked for hours. They talked about their first year at Hogwarts, to their last day there. At first, it seemed slightly awkward but the more they talked, the more they both relaxed. Soon, Hermione lifted herself from Ron's chest and looked into his eyes. "I don't want to be like this anymore. I want it how it used to be." A single tear rolled down her cheek. Ron gently swiped it before kissing Hermione's cheek. She closed her eyes. "I'm so sorry for what I said to you. I know you care, I was just angry." A soft sob escaped her lips and Ron tightened his hold on her. He didn't feel the need to say anything, all he wanted to do was comfort her.

They sat in silence for a while until Ron suddenly remembered why he came home so quickly in the first place. "Er, Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"I was thinking, maybe we should see one of those Muggle doctors." Ron gulped and waited to be scolded, but it never came.

"Do you mean a therapist?" It was asked gently, but Ron sensed the hesitation in her voice.

Ron nodded. "Yeah." No one said anything until Ron broke the silence. "What do you think?"

Hermione looked up into Ron's eyes and with tears in her own, she nodded and smiled. It had seemed like months since he had last seen her smile. "Yes, I suppose we should."

Finding a the "therapist" wasn't hard for Ron to find. Much to his surprise, the Wizarding World had quite a few Muggle doctors who were actually either a witch or wizard. Hermione remained quiet while they sat and waited to be called back to meet the doctor; this unnerved him. Couldn't she at least say one word? Not only would it be reassuring to Ron, it would also calm his nerves. A woman called the name "Weasely" and Ron stood up abruptly. Hesitantly, Hermione got up and walked with Ron (who was following the nurse). The nurse smiled kindly when they came to a stop in front of a door that read "Dr Malfoy" in gold letters on it. As soon as Ron read the name he wanted to get his and Hermione's arses out of there. He looked over at Hermione to see if she had a similar (if any) reaction to the name. Her eyes were slightly wider but her face was composed. The nurse opened the door with one hand and motioned for Ron and Hermione to walk in.

A woman who had long black hair and kind brown eyes sat across the table in front of them. She smiled, "Hello there, I'm Astoria. And I do hope you can ignore my last name for the next hour." Her warm eyes and kind smile told Ron that this might actually be easier then what he thought.

It was toward the end of their session and, so far, everything went well. Astoria asked questions and Ron and Hermione took turns answering them. But Ron had the feeling that it wasn't helping, at all. It seemed like Hermione just flat out refused to answer anything with emotion. That didn't exactly encourage Ron to answer any questions with emotion either.

Astoria leaned toward them. "So far you have neither one opened up to me. You are both hiding your emotions and feelings from me." She turned her full attention to Ron. "How do you feel about everything that has happened? Tell me everything." Her voice was powerful and commanding.

"I-I'm angry."

"Why?"

Ron gulped. He wasn't expected her to direct questions like that to _him._ But for some odd reason, he felt the need to tell her everything. "I'm angry because Hermione acts like I didn't care for our child. Like I wasn't hurt when she...lost it." Ron felt his temper began to rise and his throat tighten. "It's like she just wants to grieve herself. Like she doesn't know our whole family grieved for the death of our child."

Hermione's angry voice broke through. "How dare you! Do you have any idea what it's like to lose something that was inside of you? No, you don't!" Tears spilled out of her eyes. "I feel like no one understands what _I've _went through. What I'm going through. I will cry one minute and then the next I'm content. It's not easy, Ron!"

"I never said it was!" Only then did Ron realize he had tears sliding down his cheeks too. "You act like it's never happened to anyone else before!"

Silence engulfed them until Astoria cleared her throat. "I want to see you two once a week. Now, I wish to speak with each of you privately." Hermione talked to her first. When she walked out of the office (obviously shaken up) she avoided Ron's gaze and sat down.

When Astoria finished talking to Ron, she smiled. "I hope you do as I suggested. I think it would not only show your wife that you care about the baby but it would also give both of you closure." Ron smiled slightly and nodded. He had only spent fifteen minutes talking to Astoria privately and he was feeling confident in what he planned to do. It would be hard to deal with but he was willing to do anything to get his Hermione back.

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AN) Please review :)


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione didn't know what to do. It wasn't like her to sit around and sob all day. The worst part was looking into Ron's eyes, he looked at her as if she were a stranger. She should be thankful for such a wonderful and devoted husband, -she was, - it was just hard not to take her anger out on him. That wasn't the Hermione she knew. The old Hermione would be sensible and never cause anyone pain - why was she doing it now? Perhaps she should really listen to Astoria and take her advice. How could it hurt her? She hated sitting around all day, whining. She detested it. But what could she do when it's all she's known for - what- the past few months? It was like she had to learn to live a new life.

Clutching the quilt more closely to her, Hermione closed her eyes and snuggled closer to her pillow. It had been so long since she had even laid in her and Ron's bed; she slept anywhere but there. Ron left earlier in the day, saying he had some paperwork he needed to get caught up on with Harry. Hermione had a feeling he just wanted to get away from her, who wouldn't want to? If she had a wife that laid around and cried all day, Hermione would leave too.

Laying there, Hermione's thoughts drifted to her family. Molly, Arthur, Harry, Ginny, everyone! It seemed like it had been ages since she spoke with Ginny. _Ages. _

I wonder if Ginny has come over, Hermione thought.

Sitting up, Hermione quickly grabbed a small piece of parchment and a quill from the nightstand drawer. Using the nightstand as a table, she wrote:

_Dear Ginny,_

_I was wondering if you'd mind if I came over today? _

_Love,_

_Hermione_

It wasn't much, but it was a start.

* * *

Ginny replied almost immediately, telling Hermione to Apparate over, that she and James, she and Harry's one year-old son, needed company. Hermione brushed her hair (or at least tried to), put some decent clothes on, and Apparated almost as immediately as Ginny's reply had been. 

* * *

Ginny bounced James lightly on her lap, laughing softly as he laughed. His laugh was really the only thing that could stop her from losing her mind until Hermione showed up. It had only been minutes since she sent Hermione an Owl back, telling her to come on over. The thought of seeing one of her closest friends again made Ginny anxious and excited. How was Hermione? She must have been fairing pretty well if she wanted to come and visit Ginny, right? A knock on the door caused Ginny to jump. She sat James down and hurriedly ran to the door. Taking three deep breaths, she opened it.

The two friends stared at each other for a minute, taking in the other's appearance, before hugging fiercely. It was like old times. Hermione grasped Ginny's shirt tightly. "Hermione," whispered Ginny.

"Ginny," Hermione' voice cracked a little as she spoke. "I-I've missed you."

Ginny pulled away and smiled sadly. "It's been so long. Come in."

She led Hermione to the living room, where James lay playing with a small teddy bear. Hermione gasped a little before bending toward James. "He's grown!"

"He has," Ginny agreed. She wasn't sure if it was a good idea for Hermione to be near a baby, she worried it would trigger something in Hermione.

"May I?" Hermione stretched her arms out to James, her eyes gaining some of their old twinkle.

"Of course."

Hermione picked James up gently, cradling him like you would a newborn. Her expression was one of amazement. James laughed and smiled joyfully, playing with a strand of Hermione's hair. Slowly, a smile graced her lips. Only when she felt something wet on her face, did Ginny realize she was crying. Wiping her tears away quickly, she smiled. "I'll go make some tea." Still smiling, she walked into the kitchen. 

* * *

Holding a child in her arms stirred a feeling of warmth in Hermione's stomach. James' laughter brought back memories of when she and Ron used to go to the local park and watch the children play. James' small hand caressed Hermione's hair and she couldn't help but to smile. She sat and played with James for what seemed like forever until Ginny came in, announcing it was time for James' nap.

Once Ginny put the toddler to sleep, she sat across from Hermione at the kitchen table. "How did the doctor visit go?" she asked, bringing the cup of tea up to her lips.

"It went well," Hermione said.

"Did it help any?"

"I think it helped Ron more," Hermione said thoughtfully. She loved being able to talk to Ginny again, she didn't feel like anything was holding her back.

Ginny smiled a friendly smile. "Well, maybe you just need a friend to turn to."

Hermione nodded. "I agree."

They talked about any and everything - aside from the miscarriage. Both avoided the topic and just enjoyed how easy it was for them to be like they used to be. Hermione even laughed a few times. It felt good to - she really needed it. Soon, they both found their way to the living room, where they sat on the sofa, facing each other. There was silence until Hermione spoke up. "This...as been a great day," she said quietly. "Thank you, Ginny." Her heart swelled with love for her friend. How many other friends would put up with Hermione? Not that Ginny had a lot to put up with, but she sure as hell didn't have to invite Hermione into her home.

"You know you're welcome here anytime, Hermione." The gentle tone of Ginny's voice brought tears to Hermione's eyes. "You know Harry doesn't mind, either."

"I know," agreed Hermione. Looking at her hands, she whispered, "Do you think Ron and I will have a baby?"

Ginny remained quiet, choosing her words carefully. "First, you both need to cope with...what has happened. Then, if you both want a baby, why wouldn't you have one?"

"What if _it _happens again?"

"Hermione, the Healer said it's not likely to happen again."

Maybe Ginny was right. Maybe Hermione and Ron could have a baby without losing it. Of course, both she and Ron needed to be emotionally stable; they needed to repair their relationship. But, how could they do that? Hermione still loved Ron with everything she had - did he still love her? The thought of him losing the love he once had for her nearly brought Hermione to tears.

Hermione stood. "I think it's time I go."

"Are you sure? You can stay here if you would like." Ginny stood and followed Hermione, who was walking toward the door.

"I'm sure. I need to talk to Ron." Hermione turned and embraced Ginny. "Thank you so much, Ginny." Ginny smiled and Hermione Apparated home.

* * *

Ron wasn't anywhere in the house. Hermione checked everywhere. He usually got off earlier than Harry and should've already been home. Panic seized Hermione. Did he leave her? Where would he go? Harry and Ginny's? However, as Hermione made her way toward the back porch, she noticed flames and ran toward them. What she saw caused her to stop dead in her tracks.

Ron stood, throwing baby blankets, stuffed animals, _everything_ that used to be in the nursery, in a pit of fire.

"Ron!" Hermione cried. "What are you doing?" 

* * *

**AN) Please review and tell me what you think :)**


	5. Chapter 5

Dr Greengrass had suggested to Ron that he dispose of everything that reminded him and Hermione of the baby. Which is exactly why he decided to burn everything in the nursery. He expected Hermione to be home when he got back from work, but she wasn't there. A note on the front door she left told him she went to visit Ginny and James. Ron found himself worried that Hermione wouldn't be there when he began burning the things; Dr Greengrass said Hermione would need to be present in order to feel any better. Instead of going ahead and disposing of everything, the redhead began picking out things from the nursery and placing them in bags. He would later gather everything in the back yard and burn it with Hermione present, whether she liked it or not. Of course, Ron knew she wouldn't like it, but it was something they both needed to do.

He walked up the stairs and to the nursery slowly. When he got to the door, his hand gently pushed it open, revealing a cradle, crib, stuffed animals, and all sorts of things fit for a baby. His heart fell. How could he do this? How could he rid himself and Hermione of all of this? How could he try to forget his own child? It didn't seem right. To him it felt like he was saying, "Let's forget about you, shall we?" to the baby. But he wasn't doing that. Astoria explained to him how hard it would be, but he insisted he could handle it. He began thinking he was wrong; he couldn't do it.

Then, Hermione's broken face clouded his mind. Her weeping in the very room he stood in. This room and everything in it was nothing more than a sour reminder of what happened. No, he wouldn't be forgetting about the baby - he could never do that - he was simply ridding himself and Hermione of the painful reminder of what could've been. With a wave of his wand, Ron conjured a bag big enough for the stuffed animals and blankets that seemed to suffocate him. Slowly, he began adding small parts of his heart with every animal and blanket as he placed them in the bag. His hands shook and cold tears slid silently down his cheeks. He had to do this. Not for him, but for Hermione. As long as he could see her smiling and radiant one more time, he would die a happy man.

Soon enough, four bags were filled with nearly the whole nursery. Ron levitated each bag to the back yard, carefully placing each bag to form a circle. It was nearly sundown and Hermione still wasn't home. Anxiety overtook him and Ron began pacing, anxiously awaiting the arrival of Hermione. When there was still no sign of her, Ron conjured a fire with his wand and opened the bag nearest to him. He would burn a bag and then wait for Hermione. A soft, plush fabric caressed his hands and he pulled out a teddy bear. It was pure white with a red bow on its neck. Suddenly, his arm felt of lead. Ron wanted nothing more than to throw the bear back in the bag, but he couldn't do it. Forcing his arm up, Ron threw the bear in the fire, watching as the white was engulfed in flames, then turned black, and then to nothing but ashes. Breathing heavily, Ron began throwing the contents of the bag into the fire, one-by-one. Each time he threw something, he felt a little better.

Just when he was finishing the bag, a cry startled him, causing him to look up in alarm. There stood Hermione, a look of complete horror on her face. She didn't stay startled for long. Running up to Ron, she grabbed the blanket out of his hand and shoved him roughly. "What are you doing?" she yelled, a look of betrayal on her face.

Ron held up his hands in surrender. "Hermione, look-"

"No, you look, Ronald! All of this" -she gestured toward the bags- "is precious, and you're burning it!"

"You don't understand!"

"Of course I don't! Do you expect me to?" she snarled, clutching the blanket closely to her. Ron was at a loss for words. He was still going to do this, of course, but what about Hermione? He couldn't force her to watch him burn everything in the bags.

Deciding to take the mature route, Ron spoke calmly. "Can we talk?" Hermione blinked a few times before narrowing her eyes. She knew it wasn't like Ron to want to talk about anything - that was always what she was good at, not him - but he could tell it pleased her in some way. Silently, she nodded and Ron led her into the kitchen.

They sat at the table in silence until Hermione spoke up. "I thought you wanted to talk?"

"I do." A tense silence ensued. Ron had a good idea of what he wanted to say, he just didn't no how to say it. For once, the former Gryffindor wished he had the wits of a Ravenclaw. Finally, he spoke. "I-I don't know how to say this, but…we _have _to get rid of things like that," he pointed to the blanket clutched against Hermione's chest. When she opened her mouth to protest, Ron continued hurriedly, "Look, I know it seems like a bad idea now, but try it once." Hermione continued to glare. "Please? This is a rational thing to do, Hermione; dispose of whatever reminds us of the baby."

Hermione stared at the table, her hand self-consciously rubbing the soft blanket. Just as Ron was about to give up on convincing her, she nodded. It was barely noticeable, but he caught on to it. "You-you will do it?" he stuttered, not believing what he just witnessed.

Hermione stood, nodded once more. "Only once, and if I don't get an epiphany the bags go back in the nursery." She spoke with sarcasm and anger. Ron had no choice but to follow her as she walked - no, stormed - toward the fire. She stopped in front of it, stiffening. Ron walked slowly behind her, he knew she would react this way. Cautiously, he wrapped his arms around her, protecting her from the world.

"You can do this," he whispered into her ear.

Her voice broke when she spoke. "I-I thought I could, but I-"

　  
"-still can."

They stood together for minutes, both staring into the burning pit. Ron's hand covered Hermione's and he gave it a reassuring squeeze. He kissed her cheek softly. "You can do this, Hermione," he whispered gently, watching as the tears fell down his wife's cheeks.

She bit her lip and forced her eyes to meet Ron's. They were pleading with Ron. "Will you help me?" she asked in a voice lower than a whisper.

Using his free hand, Ron gently wiped away her tears. "Always."

Together they threw the blanket into the fire, a soft sob escaping Hermione's lips. "You did it," Ron told her. Hermione didn't respond, she walked over to a bag and grasped various contents in it. She glided toward the fire and threw the contents in, and began the same cycle until the bags were empty.

She was breathless, sitting down on grass, she breathed heavily. Ron couldn't believe his eyes. Not only did Hermione burn most of what was in the bags, but she barely cried through the whole process. Finally mustering the courage to walk, he walked over and sat beside her, wrapping his arms around her.

Not even looking up at him, she said, "I did it," and smiled. It wasn't a bright smile, but a small smile you smile when you're proud of yourself.

"I told you that you could do it."

Hermione looked into Ron's eyes. "We'll never truly forget, you know."

"I know."

Her eyes filled with love and a small part of the happiness Ron once saw in them. Slowly, she tilted her head toward his, bringing their lips together. At first, Ron was too startled to kiss her back, but he eventually closed his eyes and moved his hands up to hold her face. Her lips were warm and reminded Ron of the days when they first began dating. Their lips stayed together for a while, both savoring the moment. They both pulled away simultaneously. Hermione smiled slightly and Ron felt his heart skip a beat. "I love you," he blurted.

She seemed to be in thought and Ron panicked that she no longer loved him until she spoke. "I love you too." Hearing the words leave her lips quickened Ron's heart.

"Do you feel any better?" he asked.

She nodded. "Some."

"You know, I say it'll be warm tonight, how about we sleep out here?" Ron suggested suddenly, amazing even himself at his own boldness.

Hermione first gave him a look of shock, but nodded hesitantly. Ron stood. "You stay here and I'll be straight back, okay?"

"Can't you just Accio whatever we need?"

"Oh, I forgot about that."

Sitting back down, both Ron and Hermione Accio'ed their blankets and pillows and whatever else they needed. Ron put his arm around Hermione and she snuggled closer to him as day turned into night. Ron stroked her brown hair and occasionally kissed her forehead lightly, knowing that he would have _his _Hermione back soon. 


End file.
